Mr Plumber Man
by amyxaphania
Summary: At Dawn’s insistence, Xander does Spike a favour. Spike-Dawn-Xander friendship.


**Notes**: This was meant to be maybe 200-300 words, but it ended up a little longer. I've not written very much that's Xander-related before, he's not a favourite character of mine, but this idea bit and I had to get it down. Thanks to Sotia for beta reading!

**Mr. Plumber Man**

There was nothing like strolling through a graveyard in the dark to really make you feel like a citizen of Sunnydale.

Pocketful of stakes, bottle of holy water tucked away somewhere, the scent of newly-risen vampire dust in the air, and—oh yes—big bag of tools over your shoulder. Of course, that last wasn't a usual occurrence.

Xander glanced over to the girl at his side, her long hair shielding her face from his view. He tried to think of something to say, something that wasn't a silly platitude, but came up with nothing. None of them had thought it'd be this difficult, looking after Dawn. It seemed like the only person she listened to was Spike. And they were approaching his crypt right now.

Dawn's pace picked up when the tomb came into view, and he sighed. Way to make him feel even more inadequate: this eagerness to see the undead. Xander remembered a time when Dawn had looked up to _him_ as the big-brother type.

Now, it was all about Spike.

Hurrying after her, he didn't see the broken headstone sticking from the ground and tripped over it. Embarrassingly. Oh, how he hoped that Spike was nice and buried in his hole in the ground and hadn't seen—

The sound of slow, sarcastic clapping interrupted his thoughts, and Xander mentally hit himself with a spade. He jumped to his feet and pointed a stake at the grinning vampire standing in the doorway of his crypt. "One word and you'll be getting a visit from Mr. Stake."

Spike mimed zipping his lips, smirk firmly in place, and Xander glared. "I'm here to do _you_ a favour, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Spike said, before turning away dismissively. "All right, Niblet?"

Sighing when Dawn's face lit up at Spike's question, Xander picked up his bag of tools and followed them into the crypt. He stopped in surprise when he saw the additions the vampire had made since the last time he'd been there. A newer couch, still ratty and worn down—from the dump no doubt—sat atop an oriental rug, and the room was well-lit with candles.

"Want a picture?" Spike grumbled a few moments later.

"What?" Jolted from his perusal, Xander turned to see Spike and Dawn looking at him, curious looks on their faces.

"Time's a wasting," Spike replied and gestured to the hole in the floor.

"You're a vampire," Xander replied. "Time's all you've got."

"Guys?" Dawn's voice was impatient. "We should get started. Especially if you want to be home in time to watch _Sex and the City_, Xander."

Xander descended into the lower part of Spike's crypt, to the vampire's gleeful jeers about his viewing habits—and who was he to talk anyway?

In the basement, too, he was surprised to see all the comforts of home... if home were a slightly musty-smelling hole in the ground. A large bed, more oriental rugs, several lamps and a drinks table all looked strangely well-situated.

Dawn quickly made her way to one corner of the crypt, settled herself on a slightly deflated-looking beanbag and looked to the two men expectantly.

Xander was kind of disturbed at how comfortable she seemed, being in the crypt, and made a mental note to try a little harder at being the big brother she'd never had, so she wouldn't have to run to the vampire so often.

"Spike, can I put some music on?"

"As long as it's not any of that Backstreet Boys rubbish," Spike replied.

"As if." Dawn snorted and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Put on that one about London calling."

"Great," Xander said, throwing his hands in the air. "Not only have I been forced into coming here, I now have to listen to bad British punk? Kill me now."

Spike stood up, grin on his face. "Well, if you insist."

"Stay back, Bleach Boy! Let's get this over with, okay?"

"Right." Spike flopped back onto his bed. "Tunnel's over there. Off you trot."

"On my own?" His voice came out a lot squeakier than he'd have liked. "This is Sunnydale. Dark tunnel equals many demons."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm not helping you."

"It's _your_ crypt!"

"Yeah, but I'm not the one with the bodily functions, am I?" He gestured towards Dawn. "Blame her."

"Gee. Thanks, Spike." Dawn pouted. "Sorry if I have to pee, sometimes."

"Come on, Fangless." Xander said and made his way to the tunnel at the back of the room. "Time to make with the manliness."

"Oh, goody. Do I get to hold your tool?"

Xander wrinkled his nose in disgust, but refrained from commenting as he led the way into the tunnel. Rooting around in his toolbox, he found his flashlight and clicked it on, flooding the dark space with light.

He came to a stop in front of the exposed pipes in the wall and frowned. They didn't look to be in the best of repair, which was a good thing, considering the cowboy plumbing job he was about to undertake.

Handing the flashlight to Spike, Xander set out his tools along the dirt floor and got to work.

It was quiet for the first part of the job. He was surprised that Spike had managed to keep his mouth shut and the flashlight focused for so long. The only sounds were the faint strains of Dawn singing along to _The Clash_, and the clink of metal-on-metal as he worked on the pipes.

Eventually, he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "She wouldn't have liked this, you know." Xander kept his gaze set on the screw he was tightening, but he didn't miss the way the beam flickered, almost as if Spike had lost his grip on the flashlight. "Nope, she'd definitely have had something to say about me making your crypt more Dawn-friendly."

When Spike spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "Don't think she'd have had any objection, if it means I keep the Little Bit safe and sound."

Xander noticed how neither of them had said her name and their omission just made everything harder.

"Look," Spike continued, "I don't like you. Don't like any of you bloody Scoobies, and I know you all hate me. But if the only way she can cope is to spend some time with the Big Bad, I'm not gonna stop her."

Xander frowned, hating that he knew Spike was right. Dawn had been miserable—understandably so—until she'd started spending time with the vampire.

"Fine. I don't see why you can't look after her at the house, though."

Spike shrugged, the beam of light bobbing up and down with his movement. "It's that bloody robot."

He didn't need to say more.

Silence descended again while Xander continued to work, knocking the makeshift toilet and faucet into shape. Eventually, he decided he'd done all he could do and began packing up.

"All done?" Spike asked, standing up straight.

"Yep." He sent the vampire a cursory nod as they moved back towards the crypt.

"Won't win any awards for aesthetics," Spike said, looking back towards the crude construction.

"Didn't say it'd be pretty."

Spike shrugged and stepped back into the underground room. "Niblet, your loo's done."

Dawn looked up from the magazine she'd been reading. "Wow! I'm impressed. It didn't take long, _and_ you managed not to kill each other." She stood and went to the gap in the wall where crypt met tunnel. There she paused, waited, then sighed. "Well, go on! Upstairs. I'm not going to guinea-pig it with you two listening."

Grumbling good-naturedly, Spike and Xander headed towards the ladder and hauled themselves up into the living area of the crypt. Spike strolled over to the fridge, whilst Xander stood in the middle of the room, holding himself rather awkwardly.

"Beer?"

Xander jumped, not entirely believing that Spike would offer him a drink.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, Mr. Plumber Man." The blond tossed a bottle at Xander and gestured to the couch, before sitting himself down on the sarcophagus.

Moving slowly, still not quite understanding why Spike was being so hospitable, Xander took a seat on the sofa. Bringing the bottle to his lips, he took a long swallow of the drink.

The two men eyed each other warily, in silence, until Dawn reappeared.

She took one look at the both of them and rolled her eyes. "Geez, you two are a whole lot of fun. _Not_. Spike, you wanna come watch a movie with us?"

Xander looked to her in horror, Spike in amusement. "We just put in that shiny new loo for you," he said. "And now you don't want to spend time in my crypt anymore? I'm wounded."

"Come on," Dawn urged. "They're showing _X-Men_ at The Sun—you like that. Both of you. And Xander," she added. "No need to worry. You can catch the repeat of _Sex and the City_ on Friday. Please?"

Spike jumped up, knowing he'd have no peace until he agreed. "Fine. Get my coat, would you?"

Beaming, she went to fetch his leather duster from the back of the room, whilst Spike and Xander made their way to the door.

"I can't believe I'm going to the movies with you," Xander said, taking a step outside.

Spike smirked, but said nothing, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the smoke.

"This doesn't make us friends," Xander continued.

The vampire just nodded, slipping his coat on and loping off into the night, Dawn by his side.

Xander followed, his thoughts in turmoil. _Not friends_, he thought. _But not quite enemies anymore, either_.

-END-


End file.
